


Breathing

by GypsyDanger



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post The Great Game, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:18:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyDanger/pseuds/GypsyDanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Great Game, the boys discover what has been right in front of them; but the revelation, and the eventual consummation will not come without some interesting bumps along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The silence in 221 B was stifling. While silence on any given day might have been a God send; depending on whether Sherlock was in the mood to abuse his violin; today it was torture.

After returning home the previous night following the anti-climactic showdown with Moriarty at the pool; neither man had been capable of doing anything other than retreating to his own room, to drown in their individual thoughts, worries and fears.

John now sat frozen in his usual chair, staring across at Sherlock who was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest in his typical dressing robe and pajamas. The ex-army doctor could easily identify a ‘mind palace’ session at this point in sharing Sherlock’s life, but unlike past sessions, this one concerned the doctor.

While John Watson had been staunchly heterosexual throughout his life, not to say that he had a problem with homosexuals mind you, Harry was gay after all, and that had never bothered him. Still, it hadn’t been until the previous night that John Hamish Watson had realized that the most important person in his life was another man.

It had taken most of John’s enviable self-control not to have approached Sherlock the previous night and…what? Held him? Kissed him? John wasn’t sure. That same impulse was once again firing within John’s mind, and he was this time, powerless to stop it.

The smaller man stood carefully from his chair, and approached Sherlock in slow, but steady steps, hesitating but a breath before placing a gentle hand against Sherlock’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologize for the delay folks! My muse has severe ADD, and is oftentimes distracted. The shiny objects, however, have disappeared and there are no birds about at 2 o'clock in the morning so she is decidedly cooperative for the moment. 
> 
> Please bear with me, I will update again soon!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

For a moment it looked as though Sherlock would remain ensconced within the mysterious confines of his own mind. But then there was a minute shift and the consulting detective’s face inclined itself into John’s appendage. And now what?

Truly, it had seemed like a monumental act in the doctor’s mind, but the simple act of touching the other man had not yielded the worldly answers he had thought it should.  
John exhaled shakily, licked dry and chapped lips and started to try and form words, when the familiar rumbling velvet, also identifiable as Sherlock’s voice made itself known; 

“Do try not to embarrass us both by speaking at this moment. No doubt in that funny little brain of yours, you wish to explain to me how the fear and trauma of one James Moriarty has led you to some childish revelation about my place in your life. Let us skip the explanations, and platitudes for the time being, and spare us both the doubtless tedious and dull attempts that would drive us both into an intellectual graveyard”.

Dark blue eyes narrowed.

Well that had certainly broken the ice!

“Listen you great git! Like it, or not something has changed between us, and it’s not something we should ignore!”

“Why ever not, dear John? We have been getting along quite well, without the messy sentimentality and physical cravings normal dullards experience. You and I have no need for anything so primitive. We exist as friends and intellectual colleagues, who greatly appreciate each others company, and have no wish to diverge from one another's presence”.

“Truly?” John asked with a raised eyebrow, “Then what was that display at the pool? Simple appreciation, for a simple colleague, that led you to threaten the one person who could challenge your great mind?”

Sherlock went from sitting to standing so fast John nearly fainted with vertigo, but for the piercing blue/green/silver gaze searing into his own eyes, “I do not need Moriarty to challenge me. Yes, he was a worthy distraction for a time, but one that swiftly outlived its usefulness. A point that I was making to him, by threatening his life, as he threatened mine. Do not read so much into this dear, sweet Dr. Watson, for I assure you, that you will be quite disappointed when I do not share your emotional response toward a death threat!”

A challenge hung openly in the air, in the 4 or so inches between their faces. 

John could look away, concede Sherlock's point and endeavor to return to life as usual at 221B.

Or,  
He could mount his own attack, and fight for greater depth to their relationship than might be possible.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so very sorry everyone, for the long delay. There's a proper chapter up this time, instead of an A/N. More to follow, as I already know how I want the next chapter to go. Thank you sooo very much for your patience, and as always Reveiws and Comments are always appreciated.

Truly an impressive attack for John’s point of view to the situation would have been forthcoming, if Sherlock had not decided that the conversation had reached its death, and stormed off to his bedroom.

The great git had not even waited for a ‘by your leave’ either; perhaps that’s what irritated John the most about his roommate, he was so inconsiderate! So rude, and messy, and impossible, and irritating, and brilliant, and talented, and beautiful, and sexy, and whaaaaaaa-.

John shook his own head with such force as to endanger himself with whiplash at that last bit. He had been listing off the things that were ‘wrong’ with the sociopath, not what made him oh so enchanting, dammit!

The veteran turned to glance down the hall toward Sherlock’s room, and momentarily considered following him, and had even taken a step forward to follow when his phone beeped _Don’t Follow Him-MH._

Captain Watson mentally fell on the floor with a shout, God DAMN those two! Sherlock for being bloody impossible, and Mycroft for knowing everything, and rubbing peoples noses in it!

Damn them both he was going to throw out his phone, he was going to stop caring, he was going to stop pining; Sherlock didn’t want him after all.

John’s phone beeped, _He Wants You. And Don’t Throw Out Your Phone It Would Be…Inconvenient-MH_

God Damn those two. **_Then what should I do about it, if you’re so knowledgeable?_**

John’s phone beeped, _Well Leave Him To Stew About It For A While, Obviously. Let Him Make The First Move. Honestly Watson, What ‘Does’ My Brother See In You?-MH_

Bloody Git, John thought.

John’s phone beeped, _Don’t Call People Names Behind Their Backs John, It’s Extremely Rude-MH_

“Arrrrrrrrghhhh!!!!” Watson exclaimed before doing what he always did when he was upset with Sherlock…clean the bloody apartment, of said Detective’s mess. Why? Because he was a God Damned Housewife, obviously.

Oh how the mighty Army Captains had fallen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two chapters in one day! I would be impressed with myself if I was sure that my ability to write wouldn't decide to take an unauthorized leave of absence! Oh well, please enjoy Chapter 4! For those of you who read my Note for Chapter 3 please, if you have not already, go back and reread Chapter 3. It is a proper Chapter update now, and Chapter 4 will make more sense if, 3 is read first!
> 
> Thank you everyone for your patience  
>  -GypsyDanger

Sherlock’s phone beeped, _Moping Again, Brother?-MH_

Blue/Green/Silver eyes rolled a full 360 degrees, before Sherlock answered back _Haven’t you something better to do, you bloated twit? Go running perhaps…off of a cliff ideally. I assure you no one will miss you-SH_

The detective returned to his mind palace, John’s reaction to the meeting with Moriarty puzzled the genius, and even more shocking was Sherlock’s reaction to John’s reaction.

It seemed that in response to a highly dangerous situation that involved both of them John responded by forming a stronger attachment to Sherlock; an attachment that to John equaled attraction. How puzzling, he would have to run further tests.

Sherlock’s phone beeped, _So Aggressive Little Brother, My, My Mummy Would Not Be Pleased. And John ‘DOES’ Love You Brother. It Just Took An Extra Push For Him To Discover It. Though Why He Loves ‘You’ I Will Never Understand-MH_

Sherlock scowled, _Whyever would you think John loves me. Not that it is any of your concern in the first place, but I am willing to humor you. I am always interested in understanding new, if preposterous ways of thinking-SH_

John did not love him, it was just too outlandish even for the emotional army doctor, no…the simple fact of the matter was that John responded to a stressful situation by latching onto the only other person to share it with him. Perfectly normal response, and Sherlock would not even blame John for thinking he loved him; it was a normal if idiotic response to those of lesser intelligence.

Sherlock’s phone beeped, _He Stayed_ -MH

Those two words made Sherlock’s blood freeze, and almost unwillingly his mind was thrown into its palace, dragged down the corridors to the room designated for John Hamish Watson.

The room was a plain, but calming Doctor’s office with clipboards of Patient Records that outlined every interaction directly or indirectly involving John Watson in Sherlock’s life.

It was true, damn Mycroft to the lowest depths of Hell; if such a thing as Heaven and Hell existed, to which Sherlock had his doubts.

John had stayed with him, longer than any other person not amongst his family members had. No matter what Sherlock inflicted upon the compassionate Doctor, the smaller man with the deep ocean blue eyes, ash blonde hair, psychosomatic limp, and PTSD induced nightmares had stayed.

The doctor had from the beginning made Sherlock feel…appreciated.

But oh how utterly infuriating John H. Watson could be! So emotional! So illogical, and slow; not completely, and in fact John was smarter and faster than most, but still slow, and plain, and hesitant; at times timid. And brave, and noble, and handsome, and…the best man Sherlock had ever known.

Oh…

Oh no…

Emotions it seemed were a new form of extremely contagious viral infections; more testing was needed.

Sherlock’s phone beeped _You Love Him-MH._

He loved John. Damn Mycroft! Damn him!

 


	5. Chapter 5

So then the most obvious question became, what to do with the revelation that not only did he, Sherlock Holmes possess sentiment (what was the world coming to?), but that he loved Dr. John Hamish Watson?

There was of course, no irrefutable proof that John loved him back, except for his rotund brother, who had an annoying track record of meddling in Sherlock’s life. Not exactly the proof that Sherlock was willing to rely on to make a decision regarding his next course of action.

This situation would obviously require extensive testing, and experimentation. Only after he had exhausted all testing would, and could Sherlock even begin to entertain the idea of admitting his…feelings, for John.

So the raven haired man steepled his hands under his chin and delved into his mind palace to begin setting up the laboratory that would be necessary to house his experiments and tests regarding John Watson’s inner most feelings him.

Sherlock’s phone beeped.

_Do Try to Be Careful Dear Baby Brother…You May Find That Dear Dr. Watson Might Not Appreciate Being Experimented On. Would Not Want to Run Him Off Would We? –MH_

Sherlock growled before mentally reducing the experiments he would perform to three, as he calculated that John’s patience and temperament would only permit so many tests before they would be having a domestic. How tedious.

Sherlock’s phone beeped.

_Domestic Indeed, Brother Mine. –MH_

Sherlock snatched his phone up and quickly, and angrily tapped out a response, _Please keep your rather unfortunate hawkish nose out of my personal affairs! And if you insist upon interfering in my personal life again, I shall be delighted to tell Lestrade that you have four body guards following him at all times. My, my, brother mine, for one who is so disgusted by sentiment you are displaying rather a lot of it, wouldn’t you say? -SH_

Sherlock’s phone beeped, _Oh Please, Gregory Lestrade is an Important Asset to the Government. It Only Makes Sense to Protect Him. –MH_

Sherlock snorted, _‘Important Asset to the Government’?! Gregory Lestrade is a mere NSY DI. There are plenty of men and women who would be able to take his position and become just another name on your payroll ledger! Admit it brother, you are protecting him for personal reasons –SH_

When no immediate response followed Sherlock’s text, the detective could not help but preen a bit at the victory. Truly, now that the raven haired genius thought it over properly he should tell Lestrade anyway. It ‘would’ be great fun to see Mycroft try to explain himself to an angry DI.

Sherlock’s phone beeped.

_I Shall Admit to No Such Thing. And You Would Do Well Not to Cross ‘Me’ Brother. I Am Not Nearly as Patient or Forgiving as Poor, Ignorant Dr. Watson_ _–MH_

Oh yes, telling Lestrade about his protection detail was certainly a necessity if the very threat of doing so sent his brother into a fit of conniptions.

**Across London**

Greg Lestrade was interrupted while interviewing the victim of a domestic by a beep from his phone.

_I did not realize Detective Inspectors had fan clubs. 2:00, 12:00, 9:00. Car two streets over –SH_

Greg stared in bewilderment at his phone before carefully glancing in the directions given, and sure enough there were two armed men and one armed woman at his 2, 12 and 9 o’clock. And if Lestrade had any question about who had sent them, the make and model of a very familiar black town car two streets over answered it.

Gregory Lestrade was already livid when his phone beeped again.

_Please send my regards to Mycroft when you see him –SH_

‘Send his regards’, indeed.

For Sherlock to know the locations of Lestrade’s ‘fan club’ members, he would have had to have noticed them a while back, and kept it to himself.

Damn the Holmes Brothers. Damn them both.

**221 B Baker Street.**

Sherlock’s phone beeped.

_Challenge Duly Noted, and Accepted. The Game, As You Would Say, Is On-MH_

 


End file.
